This
by awesomesen
Summary: Love isn't always all you need. Part two: Sorata deals with it. [So x A, Part II of III]
1. This

* * *

x x x

* * *

When Arashi woke up in the hospital, Kamui was there. He looked pale and exhausted and as though he hadn't eaten properly in a week: he also looked angry. She didn't blame him. 

As she propped herself up into a sitting position, slowly so as not to trouble her wounds, Kamui regarded her silently. Arashi broke the silence. "Kamui—I just—"

"Don't bother," Kamui said angrily, standing from the chair he had been perched in. "I'm not here for your sake."

She hadn't expected any other reaction. Arashi looked away. "But. You could have killed me, and instead—"

"I wanted to kill you," Kamui said flatly, turning to leave the hospital room. "Don't thank me for anything, Arashi."

* * *

x x x

* * *

"It's because you aren't Subaru-san," Yuzuriha said the next day. She was clearly uncomfortable around Arashi, but was putting forth an admirable effort to ignore it. "That's what Sorata-san says. He says that Kamui-san can't hate Subaru for doing what you did, so he hates you for doing... what you did... because you didn't do it to him. Kamui-san." Yuzuriha trailed off, having confused herself somewhat. 

Arashi feigned exhaustion, lying back against the pillows of her hospital bed silently, until Yuzuriha changed the subject. "Now we've all been in the hospital," she said. "I guess that's not really something to notice, though," Yuzuriha added with a nervous giggle.

_He hates me for my betrayal,_ Arashi thought. Yuzuriha had been referring to Kamui, of course, but it probably held true for more people than him. Even the younger girl was having trouble meeting Arashi's eyes, despite her efforts to be friendly. _My betrayal of the Seals made him hate me_.

It had been her plan, her loose, terrible plan, all along. But Arashi hadn't expected ending up in the hospital instead of dead.

At least it was proof he hadn't cast any more protections.

* * *

x x x

* * *

Despite his words, Kamui came back on the third day. "Stop faking sick," he told Arashi, sitting down hard in the room's one chair. "We all heal fast. You weren't even that badly hurt. You're worrying—people." 

"Why didn't you kill me?" Arashi asked him curtly.

Kamui scoffed a laugh. "I didn't save you for _your _sake." he paused and fidgeted with the button on his shirt cuff. "Sorata... is being really annoying. That's the only reason I'm here."

"I—I don't see the connection," Arashi snapped, lying furiously.

"He doesn't hate you, so get over yourself," Kamui said.

* * *

x x x

* * *

On the fifth day, Sorata showed up. She didn't speak to him and they sat in silence for several minutes, Sorata's occasional attempts at starting a conversation going ignored. "I bet Kamui's been annoying," he said finally, sounding slightly desperate. "I don't know why he keeps coming here since—" 

"Be quiet," she said. Her pillow had been propped up so she could lean against it as she sat, and she looked out the window instead of at him, trying to be rude.

"—I've been worried about you." Why did he always have to say such things? "I guess you probably hate me—because of everything—but I still can't help it. I was really—" Even Sorata's frankness had some limits, and he trailed off.

"You're an idiot," Arashi said, instead of _I don't hate you_.

"Yes. I know." Sorata laughed a little—unconvincingly—to show it didn't bother him. "It's just, you left, and—were gone and I—" Again his courage failed him.

"Shut up."

* * *

x x x

* * *

Yuzuriha again on the sixth day. Arashi ignored her until she left.

* * *

x x x

* * *

On the seventh day, the hospital released her. Arashi had planned to stop by the old house, get some clothes, and head from there to Ise—she had planned this until she saw Sorata, used to rejection, waiting for her in the hospital's lobby. He didn't meet her eyes but did hand her a coat. She hesitated, then took it. 

"What is it that you want from me?" She asked, the words sounding stilted even to her.

"Nothing," he said, with the worst smile she had ever seen: she decided he was lying. She spend the journey to CLAMP Campus ignoring him, but thinking about that: _he doesn't hate you _and _i want him to hate me. _And _get over yourself_. No one wanted "nothing" out of love, she decided. Determined, then, when they arrived in the house on CLAMP Campus, she reached her arms around his neck as if to strangle and kissed him instead.

Of course he reciprocated.

* * *

x x x

* * *

The eighth morning. Kamui gave her a nasty look when she came downstairs for breakfast. Feeling satisfied, knowing her place, Arashi followed him into the kitchen while the other two spoke. 

"I thought you hated him," Kamui said, still taking her betrayal to heart.

"My feelings for him do not matter," Arashi replied in an undertone, and tried to decide whether she should drop the honorific from Sorata's name. "You wanted this."

"Y--yeah," Kamui said, frowning. "But only on Sorata's end. I want him to be happy, not you." That was childish, and even he knew it. "But this way, you're only going to mess things up worse."

"I don't see how," Arashi said stubbornly, suddenly angry.

Kamui looked dark. "Of course your feelings matter. Love's not worth much if it's one sided. I can't believe _I _have to be the one to tell you this stuff."

* * *

x x x

* * *

On the eighth night, he didn't ask her if she loved him. She turned her face away, feeling confused, arms frail around him and wanting the excuse to lie.

* * *

x x x

* * *

"I'm leaving Tokyo," she said on the ninth morning, still in bed. He asked her where she would go; when she said Ise he rolled over, kissed her, and didn't argue with her to stay. _Because of my betrayal, he hates me, _Arashi thought. The victory was strangely hollow.

* * *

x x x

* * *

**tbc**


	2. This Second

_I know I said that this was a two part story... however, Sorata butted in and demanded a chapter for himself. Consider this a interlude if you'd like; the real second part will be up soon. _

* * *

x x x

* * *

On his thirteenth birthday, Sorata was told how he would die, and that was the start—and end—of it. He had been in love with Arashi for long before he had a name and a face to give the emotion to; he had spent the past five years of his life dreaming of her, training for her, preparing to meet her and then die for her sake. Sake. That was a vague noun, even Sorata knew that, a word that could be taken in many ways. But even if she killed him, he had been prepared for it.

* * *

x x x

* * *

Kamui had designated himself the reluctant matchmaker of the remaining Seals. He wasn't doing a very good job of it. "You aren't going to see her off?" he asked, sounding slightly relieved. Arashi was leaving that day for Ise, having only announced her plan the morning before. Yuzuriha was trying to miss her and say goodbye, but Kamui didn't bother with such an effort, still smarting. Sorata couldn't decide what to do. He knew what he wanted to do—to go to her and grab her and demand that she stay with him, and then kiss her—worse, a part of Sorata knew that that was what Arashi wanted, too. 

But not because she loved him. "It's better if I don't," Sorata said, grinning and making a little heart out of his fingers. "One day, Kamui, you'll have a grown-up's relationship too, and you'll understand."

"I don't think so," Kamui replied, missing the joke, eyebrows knit.

* * *

x x x

* * *

Their first time, he had been injured and on a certain amount of pain killers. He had been happy, so happy—and so had she, he had thought at the time. It had been awkwardly managed, but it wasn't even about the sex—not in Sorata's mind, not entirely. Except then she had left, and all he could think was: _because of me. Because of what we did. _And, worst of all: _because of what I wanted from her_. 

Their second time, she had been thinking about Ise, about leaving him, about not being in love. Their third, Sorata had realized this early on—but he couldn't help it. She was willing, and he was relieved—that she was alright, that she wasn't angry, that she didn't blame him. He hadn't cared if she loved him in those moments—he had been sure she would, in the end.

* * *

x x x

* * *

Once she had left, without any fanfare or goodbyes, Sorata excused himself from the other two—they let him, exchanging worried looks—and he thought to himself, _I can't let them worry about me_. Kamui had enough on his shoulders already, and Yuzuriha was too young, too bright to be burdened with someone else's selfish feelings. Sorata had always tried to take care of them, and for the situation to be reversed was— 

Alone, he reminded himself of that again, and again, until the knot lessened. And then he could forget about her, put her in the back of his mind—focus everything he had on Kamui and Yuzuriha until it seemed natural that she was gone. But it wasn't, and the fact that she was alive somewhere, alive and happy without him—that made it worse than grieving.

* * *

x x x

* * *

In bed with her, he hadn't wanted to care what she thought, because if he loved her enough, she would _have_to care for him back. You don't do things like that with people you don't care about. You don't act the way she had if you don't care. 

But you do if you're guilty, or if you feel obligated—Sorata would suddenly think things like that, and feel shamed.

* * *

x x x

* * *

"What's wrong?" Kamui asked. Sorata continued to sit on the step between the mud-room and the kitchen of their small house, staring down at his feet blankly. "Sorata," Kamui said, with a mixture of authority and urgency in his voice—Sorata blinked and grinned. 

"Oh, Kamui. You're just who I wanted to see," he said with a self deprecating laugh, gesturing down to his sneakers. "I can't tie my shoes one handed, it turns out." Kamui looked hurt for Sorata's sake, and crouched down beside him to help. "You tie shoes like that?" Sorata asked. "Still like a little kid?"

"So what if I do?" Kamui said testily, making rabbit ears out of the laces as Sorata laughed. Kamui's face clouded. "Why don't you just admit you miss her?"

"Because—it makes no difference if I do." Sorata looked uncomfortable. "You'll understand someday."

"No I won't," Kamui replied, jaw set. "If you love someone, you should try to be with them."

"You don't need to give me advice," Sorata said, standing up with his sneakers neatly tied. He looked down at his paralyzed hand with regret. "Don't worry about me, Kamui."

"If you stop acting so stupidly, I won't."

* * *

x x x

* * *

In the end, though, Sorata was no good at feeling sorry for himself. Soon it had been a month since she had left. Then two. Kamui was suffering from sleeping problems and nightmares, and Yuzuriha had caught a bad cold that Sorata suspected was stress related. They complained when he started on them, but not too hard. It was easier for him to focus on them, and it made him feel guilty but they didn't mind.

* * *

x x x

* * *

He met a girl. Her name was Honami. They had history class together, she was outgoing and wore her hair short. Kamui was all for it. "She's nice," Kamui said. "She's... nice." He didn't seem to know any other adjectives, and glared at Sorata until he agreed that she was. 

And she _was_ nice. And she was pretty, too, and they had a lot in common, and she asked him on a date and Sorata imagined Kamui glaring and laughed and said yes.

* * *

x x x

* * *

It went without saying, though, that Honami wasn't—

—he didn't think about it.

* * *

x x x

* * *

Soon, it was autumn.

* * *

x x x

* * *


End file.
